


(Who the Hell Died and) Made You King

by sleep_and_feel_no_pain



Series: sugar honey ice and tea [2]
Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Fist Fights, Guilt, M/M, Multi, Romantic Soulmates, Sequel, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 19:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19302472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep_and_feel_no_pain/pseuds/sleep_and_feel_no_pain
Summary: This is the aftermath of events that occur in Synnerxx's story. Joey sees what Corey's done, and what happens next isn't pretty.





	(Who the Hell Died and) Made You King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Synnerxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synnerxx/gifts).
  * Inspired by [We All March On (Like We Know The Way To Heaven)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18594502) by [Synnerxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synnerxx/pseuds/Synnerxx). 



> This has been sitting for awhile cause I had to pack and move, but here it is, finally. Synnerxx and I had a long discussion about a sequel to the fic she wrote for my birthday, and how it should go. She agreed to give me a stab at it, so hopefully she likes the direction it took and how it came out.

As soon as the door closed behind him as he exited the room, leaving Jim there with Corey, Joey felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. He listens in front of the door, making sure that Corey isn’t going to start immediately yelling at Jim. He can feel the tension in his muscles, the adrenaline working its way through him, his small body perched at the ready to burst back inside if the situation called for it.

But after a minute, he hears nothing, and he leans his forehead against the wall, taking deep breaths. _I did what I had to do._ Too bad the thought does nothing to squash the awful feeling still hovering over him, the feeling that was put there the second he’d opened his mouth and said what he’d said to Corey.

 _”I was horny, he was there, you weren’t. Not a big deal.”_ Joey groans softly to himself. Even when he’d said it, it hadn’t sounded near as convincing as he’d tried to make it sound. He could tell that the only person who believed it was Jim himself. Corey, on the other hand, hadn’t batted an eyelash.

Corey could tell something was going on. But Jim? 

The look he’d seen cross Jim’s face in the seconds after the words were past his lips cut him deeper than he’d anticipated they would. But even that hadn’t hurt as bad as that newfound electric feeling inside of him screeching to a halt.

Joey shakes his head and sighs heavily as he finally pushes himself away from the wall next to the hotel room door. So far, there hadn’t been any yelling from within, and he couldn’t hang out here all day, either. He slowly clomps down the hallway, his footfalls heavy on the carpeted floor as he makes his way down to the room number Paul had texted him just this morning.

Paul opens the door to the three sharp raps of his knuckles, and Joey pushes past him into the room without a word. 

“Whoa, dude. Who shit in your cereal?” Paul pushes the door closed with his foot, turning to watch Joey pace the small space between the two full-sized beds. His eyebrows raise a bit as Joey starts muttering angrily to himself, his small body tensing even further, fists clenching.

“That… that motherfucker! Who the fuck died and made him king of the free world, anyway?” Joey stops pacing, turning his razor-sharp gaze on Paul, the usual bright blue of his eyes darkened by his anger. 

Paul whistles softly, knowing Joey’s not mad at him. He crosses the room, undaunted, going to sit down on the end of the closest bed as Joey positively thrums with anger. He gives Joey a few more moments of expletive-laced muttering before he tilts his head. “You wanna talk about it, dude?”

The wind dies out of Joey’s sails as he looks at Paul’s face, and he sighs, lowering his head, his hands raising to run through his long, dark hair as he tries to calm himself. “Fuck. I… don’t even know where to start.” 

“The beginning’s usually a good place. What happened? I saw you heading to the elevator with Jim and Corey last night, so I assume you’re mad at one… or possibly both… of them?” Paul lets the question trail a bit, his eyes still on Joey.

“Corey.” Joey’s lips turn up in a bit of a sneer, “because of course it’s Corey. Jim didn’t do anything. Not this time, anyway.” Sighing again, Joey goes to sit down on the bed next to Paul. “It’s weird. Last night went… pretty normal, for us. Corey and I fucked around a bit, then added Jim to the mix. We both fucked Jim this time, at the same time, cause it’s what Corey wanted.” Joey pauses to look at Paul, wanting to see his reaction.

Paul just blinks mildly at him, not seeming the least bit fazed. “Hmm.” He nods to Joey, indicating he should go on.

“Then this morning, Corey had to go do that radio interview or whatever-the-fuck. So he left me and Jim there. Usually… Jim leaves right after we do our thing. But for whatever reason, Corey wanted him to stay last night. So that’s why he was still there this morning to begin with. So, you see, it’s Corey’s fault. It’s all his fault, just like always!” Joey’s fists clench again, and this time, the tightness travels all the way to his jaw. “If Jim had just left last night, then it wouldn’t have happened.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Paul asks after a minute, when Joey doesn’t continue immediately.

“This morning wouldn’t have happened. And I wouldn’t be so pissed off at Corey, and I wouldn’t be so worried about what he’s gonna end up doing to Jim. Because I shouldn’t have… I should have had more self-control! Cause I knew Corey would get mad about it!” Joey’s face twists, going from anger to upset, and Paul reaches out to touch his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“Chill a bit, man. It’ll be okay. What, exactly, happened?”

Joey’s head lowers again, the pained look only getting worse. “We had sex. Me and Jim.”

Paul nods knowingly, having figured that’s what had happened in the first place. “And Corey caught you?”

Joey shakes his head. “No. Not while we were… no,” Joey falls silent again, and a small smile spreads across his face as he remembers the golden, electric feeling that had spread through him while he and Jim had been joined. His heartbeat speeds up, sending color to his pale cheeks. “That part was… it was actually really nice. Way nicer than usual.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” Paul leans back, fighting the urge to smirk himself as whatever did happen was apparently enough to chase away Joey’s darkness.

“Yeah.” Joey’s voice is a little hushed now, and he looks at Paul. “You remember what you were telling me, about… how you think we should just ditch Corey and be together, him and me? Well, maybe… I don’t know. Something… happened this time.”

“Something other than just the sex?”

Joey nods, looking a little confused now. “You know how me and Corey have that… buzzy-feeling? That means we’re soulmates?”

“Uh huh.” Paul nods a little.

“I.. uh… felt it. That same feeling. With Jim.” Joey feels his cheeks heat up in a blush this time. “It wasn’t as… defined, I guess, as it is with Corey. But that’s probably because it just now started, right? I mean… what do you think it means?” Joey look at Paul again, his brows furrowed.

“Hmm,” Paul says again, this time the tone of his voice more thoughtful. “That buzzing doesn’t just happen for no reason. That much I know for sure. What exactly it means… well, only you can answer that, Joe.” A small smile turns the corners of Paul’s lips. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know.” Joey answers a bit too quickly. He lowers his head, trying to shove the rush of feelings that try to crowd his heart. _This can’t be happening. Really happening. If Corey finds out…_

“Well, then that’s probably something that you and Jim need to work out together, I would think.” Paul smirks this time, patting Joey’s shoulder again. “Now. Let me show you this riff I was fucking around with last night…”

~~~***~~~

It isn’t until almost show time that Joey sees Jim again. It’s backstage, with the usual hustle and bustle that comes before a performance: everyone getting into their stage gear, doing makeup and warmups. Joey looks up as Jim comes into the dressing room, and he gasps out loud when he sees the crusted-over scab in the middle of Jim’s lip, and the purple along his cheekbone. He’s on his feet as quickly as he can get there from where he was sitting on the couch, lacing his shoes. He pushes his mask up to get a better look at him. 

“Jamie?” 

Jim does little more than glance his direction before he’s turning on his heel and leaving the room. Joey starts to follow him, but there’s an ache in his chest that nearly steals his breath. That look, the way Jim had looked at him, with such hurt and betrayal…

It’s all his fucking fault. He knew Corey was gonna get pissed, probably blow a fucking gasket, and now they had the awful result, and it’s just as bad as Joey’d thought. His shoulders sag as he stares at the door, hoping against hope that Jim will come back after a minute or two. But of course, he doesn’t. 

Across the room, Paul gives Joey a sympathetic look. 

_This is all his fault. But he can fix it. He doesn’t know how, but he can fix it. He’s gotta fix it._

The show seems unbearably long tonight, and Joey is so distracted that he goes on auto-pilot for most of the set. He can’t stop looking over his kit, his eyes locating Jim over and over, watching the way he moves, the way he falls into his usual role of being Four. He seems more or less okay, at least physically. For that, Joey is thankful. What he doesn’t know, however, is how bad the emotional damage is. If he’s to judge from the empty look in Jim’s eyes before the set…

_Fucking Corey._

He shoots daggers from his eyes as he looks at Corey’s back as he addresses the crowd. He’ll have to deal with him as well, he knows, but for now, his focus is on making sure Jim is okay. His stomach twists into the all-too-familiar knots as he goes into his drum solo, on auto-pilot still, thinking of what will happen once they all leave the stage for the night.

~~**~~

The show breaks at last, and it takes Joey awhile to locate Jim, but he finally does. He sees his tall, lanky form leaning against one of the buses, smoking a cigarette. 

His heart is pounding as he slowly approaches him, not sure if Jim is going to even want to talk to him after what happened. After what he’d done caused... whatever it was that Corey did to him after he’d left the room this morning. His stomach feels full of angry bees, but he walks in front of Jim anyway, looking up at his face in the minimal light from the security lights in the parking lot. 

What he sees makes him gasp again. The bruising and swelling, and the split in Jim’s lip, looks so much worse this close up, and he feels hot tears sting the backs of his eyes as rage at Corey and his own guilt squeeze at his heart. 

“What did he do to you, Jamie?” Joey’s voice is soft, and his hand reaches up towards Jim’s face like he’s approaching an injured animal, his movements slow and measured. 

“Don’t.” Jim says, his voice just as soft, and the pain in that one word, and in the way Jim pulls away from Joey just before he can touch him, tears something deep down inside of Joey. 

Joey clenches his jaw, sure that his emotions are written all over his face. “Don’t what?”

“Just… please, don’t.” 

Joey watches as Jim tosses his cigarette to the ground and mashes it with the toe of his shoe, and all that remains unsaid between them somehow makes the air too heavy to breathe. And what can he do, now, but stare up at Jim? Beg his forgiveness, try to explain his side? He has the feeling that after all they’d been through all these years, Jim won’t care what his reasons for saying what he said were. And it hurts, really hurts, to know that he has no defense for saying what he’d said, for setting Corey off in this way. Jim was collateral damage, just like always, but this time, it’s different. This time, it hurts Joey just as much.

“Jamie…” Joey’s voice trembles just a little as he looks up at Jim, his hand dropping now, and helplessness wells up inside of him, making his eyes shine a little with tears he won’t allow to fall. All he wants is to make it all okay again. The memories of their time together, just this morning, rush over him again, and he searches frantically for the tiny electric buzz he’d felt deep inside of him. 

But it’s not there. It’s not there, and it’s harder and harder for Joey to even believe it was there at all, with Jim shaking his head at him this way, with Jim meeting his eyes with a million things swimming in their depths, and Joey tenses with the swirl of emotions that threaten to drag him down and never let him inhale again. 

Maybe he really had just imagined it, after all? Jim is looking at him with such cynicism, such bitterness, that he can’t imagine that just a scant 12 hours ago, they’d been a mass of tangled limbs and sweaty skin, and the buzzing had zinged through him, touching places that the buzzing just doesn’t touch with Corey…

Joey doesn’t stop Jim as he turns and makes his way up the steps of the bus. He doesn’t even know what he could say at this moment to make everything better. Jim doesn’t deserve what he’d done. He definitely doesn’t deserve what Corey had done. If only he could make him understand his reasons… if he knew he’d only been trying to _protect him_ …

His head lowers. He knows it won’t matter. Whatever had happened between them this morning… it was like he’d been handed a chance at something bright and shining and wonderful, but he’d dashed it to a million pieces just as quickly as it had been handed to him. And he has no one to blame at all but himself.

Footsteps interrupt his anger and shame at himself, and he turns his head, his eyes zeroing in on Corey as he saunters between the buses towards him.

“There you are. I was looking all over for you.” Corey’s smile is bright, his eyes clear and free of conscience. It’s almost enough to make Joey need to vomit, his stomach turning over threateningly, but instead, he reaches out with all the fury mounting deep inside of him: anger at Corey for hurting Jim, and moreso, anger at himself for everything he’s done. He pushes Corey, hard.

“What the _fuck_?” Joey hisses as Corey’s back hits the side of the bus with a solid thump. “What the fuck did you do?!” 

Corey’s smile never falters, even as the wind is knocked out of him as he collides with the bus. “Whoa, Jordison. Calm down, man. What are you even talking about?”

Corey’s indifference and feigned ignorance only fans the flames of the fire burning inside of him, making it burn out of control. “You know I fucking hate it when you hit him! Why’d you do it? Why’d you fucking do it?!” Joey screams, getting in Corey’s face now, adrenaline hitting his blood and driving away the guilt. 

_He can avenge Jim. That’ll help. That’ll fix it. That’ll show Jim that he cares, that he truly cares, that he wasn’t just some piece of ass to him…_

Corey laughs, fucking laughs, and Joey doesn’t even think, doesn’t even hesitate, and his fist is flying through the air so fast and hard that when it explodes against Corey’s jaw, it surprises even him with the power behind the punch. Corey’s head jerks hard to the side, and he bends over, spitting blood, no longer laughing or smiling now, at least.

“Joe, what the fuck!” Corey stands up straighter and rubs at his jaw, spitting more blood, the crimson mess staining his lips and chin. “You’re mine! You know you’re mine, and how I feel about you fucking with him, cause you belong to me! I can’t have you fucking with him! He’s gotta know, he’s gotta fucking know—“

“Fuck you!” Joey screams, pushing Corey against the bus again, harder this time, “Fuck you! He didn’t fucking deserve it!” His breath rasps in his lungs, and he steps from side to side, adrenaline and nervous energy thrumming through him. “I don’t fucking belong to you or anyone, so don’t fucking do it again! Don’t fucking hit him again!” 

Joey shoves Corey one last time for good measure, storming off before Corey can offer some retort. He doesn’t turn back, even when Corey calls out for him, shaking his hand as it throbs with pain from hitting Corey so hard.

And he doesn’t notice Jim, watching the scene from the bus window.

Maybe tomorrow, he can talk to Jim about this. Maybe they can work this out.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [We Don't Know What We Want (But We Know That We Want It Right Now)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374751) by [Synnerxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synnerxx/pseuds/Synnerxx)




End file.
